


Proper Lab Attire

by halcyo



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Fluff, M/M, i guess this happens sometime right after first date, mlm author, this wasn't really what i had planned but you know what
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-11 10:13:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7044178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halcyo/pseuds/halcyo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cecil's made some questionable fashion choices in his time, but this has got to be the worst.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Proper Lab Attire

Convincing Carlos to spend the night was one thing. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to - he just had to be at work early the next morning.

Driving him there the next day was a whole different story.

They sat, parked in front of the lab, staring at each other in not quite the way that animals do before they fight over a toy, but it might’ve been, if they had been animals about to fight over a toy and not two men caught in the crossroads of their relationship, and the scientists inside were the demons about to make a bargain for their souls. The smell of whiskey and sweat was still heavy on Carlos’ skin, and as he twisted around to retrieve his briefcase from the back seat, Cecil felt his stomach twist. Oh, if only Carlos didn’t have to go back to work. If only they could go back to his house again, to finish what they started the night before -

“I’ll see you soon,” Carlos assured, and his voice jolted Cecil out of his reverie, out of a sea of _what-if_ s and into the _now_. With a gentle smile, he added, “and I’ll hear you tonight.”

He laughed, the sound as fluttery as his heart. “Y-yeah, I guess you will.”

Something about Carlos’ face seemed a little different, but he couldn’t place it. His own eyes were still blurred from exhaustion - they hadn’t slept very much the night before, and for once, it hadn’t been the mysterious lights keeping him up. “See you, Cecil,” he said. He leaned across the center console to kiss him once more - oh god, those lips against his, the gentle hand running through his hair, he fumbled for his seatbelt to free himself - and then he was already halfway down the driveway, hurrying towards the lab.

He groaned and threw the car into reverse.

His sister (and, more importantly, her _husband_ ) lived just down the road from the lab, and he’d gotten the text in the middle of the night the day before, at a rather _inopportune_ time. Steve’s car had broken down, Abby had to be at work early the next day, and the school buses had been taken by the Secret Police for the day, as it was time for the prisoners’ annual field trip, so there was nobody to drive Janice to school the next day. And, partially because he was a pushover and partially because Carlos had breathed “come on, be a good uncle” into his ear, he agreed to drive her.

She was waiting with her stepfather - or, at least, Cecil thought it was Steve, but he couldn’t be sure, his eyesight was so blurry - in front of their house. “Howdy, Cecil!” Steve shouted, audible through the closed windows of his car. He winced at the grating voice and hurried out to help Josie maneuver herself and her wheelchair into the back of his car. Steve watched with amusement as he fumbled with the folding contraption, shoving his face directly up to it and pinching his fingers in the various joints. “Late night?” he asked, to which Cecil responded with a grunt. “By the way, I like your new glasses. Seems like the prescription might be a little off, though.”

He froze, realization hitting him at the same moment as Steve.

“Are those… that scientist’s glasses?” he asked.

_Fuck._

“Well, as always, it was _delightful_ to see you, Steve,” he said through gritted teeth, “but we don’t want to make Josie late to school.” He jumped in his car and made a point to lock, then unlock, then re-lock, then unlock, then re-lock _again,_ the car doors, all while maintaining eye contact with his brother-in-law. He began to say something else, but Cecil turned up the radio, gunned the engine, and lurched out of their driveway.

As he sped down the road towards the middle school, Josie said, “Um, Uncle Cecil, I left my gym clothes -”

“Tell them you’re Cecil Palmer’s niece,” he mumbled distractedly, typing away at his cellphone and hoping to god that Carlos would reply, “and you don’t need to participate in gym class.”

_fuck, carlos_

A reply: _right now, honey? i’m kind of busy at work_

_carlos i’m WEARING YOUR GLASSES_

_oh so that’s why i can’t see. just swing by the lab after you drop off josie, ok?_

_STEVE NOTICED_

_calm down, dear. who’s he going to tell?_

_GOD I FUCKING HATE THAT GUY I’M NEVER BEING NICE TO HIM AGAIN_

“Bye, Uncle Cecil,” Josie called. She’d already gotten out of the car, her backpack slung over one handle of the wheelchair. He wasn’t entirely sure how she’d gotten it out by herself. “Thanks for driving me.”

“Um, anytime, dear,” he called back. The moment she disappeared into the low brick building, he stomped on the gas and sped the entire way back to the lab.

Carlos was already waiting outside for him, his hands on his hips. Cecil took the glasses that he held out to him, and in turn, Carlos pushed the ones Cecil had been wearing up onto his own face. He blinked rapidly as his eyes re-adjusted - oh, god, Carlos was even hotter when he could actually see him - he, unsure of what to do next and acutely aware of the scientists staring through the windows, possibly taking notes, patted him on the shoulder and said, far too loudly, “SO, UM, THE NEXT TIME YOU SWING BY THE STATION FOR PURELY PROFESSIONAL AND NOT PERSONAL REASONS,  MAKE SURE YOU GRAB THE RIGHT PAIR OF GLASSES, OKAY?”

The scientists at the window disappeared like a school of fish after someone had tapped against the aquarium glass. Carlos groaned and let his head hang against his chest. “You know, they weren’t really suspicious, Cece, but I think you might’ve tipped them off.”

“W-well, I, um, I have… errands to run… and I should really clean up the house before I go to w-work tonight.” He winced at himself as he stammered and tripped over his words. It was their third date, for the love of Pete, he should be past the schoolboy-crush phase. “And I have to pick up food for Khoshekh, and, um, you’re walking back towards the door so I’m going to start walking back towards my car - so, uh, see you soon, then, I guess, Carlos?” He began nervously buttoning up the coat he was wearing, the exhaustion and hangover numbing his fingers to the unfamiliar buttons, so it hung unevenly off his frame.

He stopped just before crossing the threshold and grinned, just slightly, as he turned back towards Cecil. “How does Friday night sound? Dinner’s on me this time.”

_Oh, gods._ “T-that sounds… great,” he said, attempting to duck into his car in a casual and nonchalant manner and instead slamming his temple into the car frame. He sank down in his seat as Carlos burst into giggles - _what is he LAUGHING AT?_ \- and disappeared back into the lab.

He wasn’t sure why he was so embarrassed to have Steve and Josie know that Carlos had spent the night at his place, and he mused on it as he sped towards the supermarket, grocery list fluttering over his head, trapped between the roof and the sun visor. After all, he had described their first date to the entire town over the radio, and he hadn’t exactly been quiet about his attraction to him beforehand. Maybe it was that he didn’t want the entire town to be gossiping about his fucking sex life - maybe it was that. Maybe it was that the honeymoon phase was over, and Carlos was more of a real person to him, and they were settling into a familiar, gentle routine with each other, and he no longer felt the need to brag about it to everyone who would listen (and everyone who wouldn’t). Or maybe it was that he _might_ have forgotten to file the appropriate paperwork with the City Council applying for a permit to let someone spend the night in an apartment (he couldn’t remember - the hangover was, if anything, getting worse) and he was _really_ not in the mood to get angry letters or have his water replaced with snakes. That had happened once, before he had completely familiarized himself with the ins and outs of dating, and it had been a hassle to get service restored.

After a painful trip to the store in which he avoided eye contact with anyone who cast a glance his way, he barricaded himself in his bedroom with a small pantry of food and his pajamas. The room still smelled like Carlos’ cologne, the beer bottles sitting side-by-side on the nightstand.

He shrugged out of the familiar heavy wool coat he liked to wear in the chillier mornings, tossed it towards the chair in the corner where he piled all of his dirty laundry - only to realize, with a flash of horror, that the fabric was not wool but cotton, and not black but white, with the words “I LOVE SCIENCE” embroidered on the front pocket and a flask peeking out of another, and buried his face in a pillow when he realized he’d just strolled through the packed supermarket wearing Carlos’ _fucking_ lab coat.


End file.
